


aurora

by fadeastride



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Consensual Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 06:13:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5153249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadeastride/pseuds/fadeastride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s bright, too bright, and in its halo, Noah looks 19 again, carefree and perfect. All the times they skipped class to chase waves come crashing back and Dan wouldn’t trade the life he’s had for anything, but he misses the hell out of those days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	aurora

It's rude to show up unannounced and uninvited, Dan knows. His mother raised him better than this. But it doesn't stop him from driving up the coast, duffel bag in the passenger seat.

When he gets to Santa Rosa, it's still early morning, still cool and dewy. Part of him says it's too early to be knocking on doors, but he knows Noah's up. Noah's always gotten up with the sun.

He parks on the street and leaves his bag in the car, makes his way up to the front door. There's a doorbell but he knocks instead. He doesn't want to wake anyone up. 

There's a moment of panic-inducing silence before he hears the lock turn over and he has Noah standing in front of him. Sleep rumpled Noah in blue plaid pajama pants and a white undershirt and his bare feet. He looks older, of course, but he mostly looks the same as he did at Pepperdine.

“Holy shit,” Noah whispers. “Danny, you asshole, what are you doing here?” He's smiling so wide Dan thinks his face must hurt and he pulls Dan in for a hug that crushes the air out of him. 

When he steps back, he leaves his hands on Dan’s shoulders, looks him up and down like it's been years since he's seen him, because it _has_ been years. 

“Well, you know,” Dan says. “You've always been on my ass about coming up here, I figured I should take you up on that, now that I've got some free time.”

Noah chuckles. “Free time, Jesus, I forgot you're a retiree now. Come on, come in, let me get you some coffee.”

Dan follows him, takes in the pictures lining the entryway. He gets the Christmas card every year, he knows how beautiful Noah's family is, but these are different pictures. They're more personal: the girls in snow suits, the older one bent over skis; Andrea and Noah sitting on the beach, feet tangled together in the sand, all four of them crowded around a birthday cake. At the end of the row, there's one from college, a shot of him and Noah with their arms linked, eyes squeezed shut as they smile into the sun. He remembers taking it, the beautiful game they'd pitched against Loyola and Noah's mom insisting on a picture. It makes Dan’s chest ache in the best way.

When he makes his way to the kitchen, Noah's already pulled a second mug out of the cupboard.

“You still take your coffee black?” Noah asks and Dan loves that he remembers. 

“Black like motor oil,” he says.

“Black like motor oil,” Noah agrees. “So, how long are you gonna be up here?”

Dan takes a sip of his coffee, lets its warmth trickle down his throat. “That's, uh. That's actually up to you.”

Noah looks at him, really looks at him, and nods once. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

A comfortable silence settles in the kitchen, the scrape-thud of mugs being picked up and set down the only sound. Dan’s nearing the end of his coffee when Andrea wanders into the kitchen.

“Oh!” she says, startled. “I didn’t know we were expecting company. It’s good to see you, Dan.” She greets him warmly, gives him a quick hug before leaning down to kiss Noah good morning. 

“Danny’s gonna stay with us for a little bit, babe. Right, Danny?”

Dan nods. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“I’ll get the guestroom set up after breakfast,” Andrea says. “I’d offer to make you something, but I think all we have right now is Cheerios.”

“Those are mine,” a small voice pipes up, and Dan turns to see the older of Noah’s girls standing in the doorway, staring at him. “Who are you?”

“Averlee,” Noah chides. “This is Dan. He’s a friend of mine. Can he have some of your Cheerios?”

Averlee looks suspicious but she finally relents with a heaving sigh and an “I _guess_.”

Noah calls someone in to open the store for him so he can take the day off and show Dan around town. It’s beautiful, he can’t deny it, but Noah’s always been the kind of person who prefers smaller cities to the twisting and climbing concrete of places like LA. Dan thinks he’d go crazy in a place like this, but he knows it’s given Noah something akin to peace.

The first night is weird, lying in the guest bed without the sound of freeways or recirculated air to lull him to sleep. He spends most of the night staring at the ceiling and Noah gives him shit for the bags under his eyes in the morning.

By the third day, he’s slipped into their routines almost seamlessly, helping Andrea feed the girls in the morning, going with Noah to work.

And Noah’s store, god, it’s so Noah. He knows most of the customers by name, asks about their kids or their dogs, and he looks just as much in his element there as he did on the mound. Dan takes to hanging back and watching him talk about ski poles with the kind of lazy excitement he used to reserve for talking about changeups. It’s familiar and alien all at once.

He’s been there a week when Noah sneaks into his room at five in the morning.

“Hey, Danny, wake up,” he hisses, tosses something onto the bed. “We’re going surfing.”

Dan blinks the sleep out of his eyes and realizes Noah’s thrown a wetsuit at him. He’s about to question it, but Noah has that old look of his that says he’s not going to be talked out of this. So he gets up.

It’s still pretty much dark when they get to the beach, just the hint of sun peeking over horizon. There’s no one else on the beach to watch them strip out of their clothes and put on the wetsuits.

The water is bitter cold and makes his muscles burn, but he paddles out with Noah anyway. The waves are too small to ride right now, so they sit on their boards and talk about nothing at all until the sun comes up proper. It’s bright, too bright, and in its halo, Noah looks 19 again, carefree and perfect. All the times they skipped class to chase waves come crashing back and Dan wouldn’t trade the life he’s had for anything, but he misses the hell out of those days.

He thinks maybe Noah’s remembering the same thing because he tilts his head back to put his face to the sky, eyes closed tight.

“It’s been a long time, Danny.”

It has. It really has.

The waves pick up eventually and they ride them in until Dan’s eyes sting with salt and he knows his cheeks are sunburnt. They drive back into town with the windows down, some oldies station on the radio.

He calls Jessica when they get back, while Noah’s in the shower.

“We went surfing today,” he tells her. “Paddled out into this fucking icy water in the dark. And Jess, shit, I’m so sorry.”

“What?”

“I wanted to kiss him.”

“So why didn’t you?” 

The way she says it surprises him, because she seems genuinely curious. Like that was a choice he could have made and it would have been okay.

“I didn’t think I could.”

He hears her sigh into the phone. “Danny. He’s always come first to you, and I know that. No, don’t - it’s fine. I knew it when I met you, and it doesn’t bother me, but he’s always come first. Even when you didn’t want him to.”

For the first time, he lets himself think about it, and he knows that she’s right.

He doesn’t know what to do with that.

He takes a shower, scrubs the salt and sand off his skin and out of his hair, and he thinks about how long he’s known Noah, how long he was in love with Noah without ever realizing. He stays until long after the water’s gone cold.

Later, after Andrea and the girls have gone to bed, they sit on Noah’s back porch in cheap plastic chairs, sipping craft beer because Noah’s a hipster now and is too good for Bud Light. He’s built a fire in the little fire pit, just enough to keep the chill away. It’s comfortable, but Noah keeps turning to look at him without saying anything. He finally sets his beer on the ground and turns his chair to face Dan.

“Danny, why are you here?” It’s not mean, but it makes Dan flinch anyway.

“I don’t know,” he admits.

Noah hmms a little. 

“You know, I was so fucked up about you for so long. Andrea didn’t even want to invite you to the wedding, was afraid I’d get cold feet and run. Don’t worry, she’s okay with it now.” He meets Dan’s eyes. “I might still be a little fucked up about you.”

“Why?”

“You were my best friend, and I wanted to love you so bad, show you that I could. But I didn’t know how to tell you that. By the time I figured it out, Jessica was pregnant and there are some things I’m not willing to do.”

Dan swallows, his throat dry. “And now?”

“Now I’m old and don’t care.” He laughs, and it could be bitter but it’s not. “No, now I just try to be honest with everyone. I’ve lied so much and I don’t want to do it anymore.” The fire’s casting shadows on his face and he looks tired. “You were probably the last secret I was keeping.”

Dan picks at the label on his bottle. “I didn’t know it at the time, but I was a little fucked up over you, too. Jess knew before I did.” He doesn’t know if it’s the buzz he’s got going or what, but he’s feeling brave enough to say, “I told her I wanted to kiss you earlier, out on the water.”

Noah doesn’t say anything for a minute and Dan thinks he misread the situation before he hears Noah’s shaky voice say, “How did she take it?”

“She asked me why I didn’t.”

“So what’s stopping you?”

He drops his bottle and pushes out of his chair to crouch in front of Noah. Noah tucks a bit of hair behind Dan’s ear, drags his hand down to cup his cheek. Dan leans forward and brushes their lips together.

Noah opens up so beautifully for him, and the kiss stays soft, dizzying, even though every part of Dan’s body is ringing out frantic and desperate.

When Noah pulls away, his eyes are still closed. “I’ve been waiting almost half my life for that.”

He pushes at Dan’s shoulders till he topples back onto the grass, then lies down beside him. Dan twines their fingers together.

“I’ve missed you, Danny.”

And Dan knows. He knows.


End file.
